Escape
by xxBurningxx
Summary: It is all they want, if only for a moment. Forget, for just a minute. Everything is impossible, but at the very least, they try.


**Story Note: Angst. Rated T for sexual themes and references. Let me know if it pushes the 'T' rating; I wasn't sure about it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.  
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**Escape**

**by.** _xxBurningxx_

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The love is there, but you can't see it. Their thoughts aren't focused on passion. Their thoughts are not drawn to affection or pain. Only the mere thought of getting away for even a moment is what fuels them to do what they do. A different time, different place, and perhaps they would be happy.

But are not happy, and it is not a different time or different place.

The dread and suffering: it is too much weight for even the two of them to bear. But at the very least, _they try. _

"Nnngn, Soul..."

When did this start? When did the longing and cravings finally begin to settle in her chest? Since the war started, most likely. The responsiblities, the duties, the work, the _stress._ Constant battles that never end and four hours of sleep. Hardly enough food to keep them going. It isn't enough.

Going to what used to be "school" now sits upon Maka Albarn's shoulders as a heavy dread. When's the last time Soul smiled? Ha. Funny question.

Reading is now a lost luxury for Maka, and she misses it to the point that sometimes she cries.

And listening to music? Ha! Soul traded his iPod a long time ago so he could afford a meal to share with his meister.

"M-maka..."

They cannot run away from this hell, so they run the only way that they know possible. They love eachother, and they're both fully aware of it. But love cannot be shared in these conditions; they agreed on this a while back.

He bites in a place irresistable to him, sharp teeth grazing skin, and she screams.

This form of running, it is the only way to forget the reality of things. The reality that Maka's papa is dead, and that Soul cannot remember even a single line of any classical song he used to know and love. Phisical distractions in the night while half the city sleeps, and the other remains on the battle field.

Neither of them really know how they fell into this routine, but it is mandatory, because the mere thought of going on each day without it leaves Maka fearing that she would have kicked the bucket at this point.

"More...P-please,"

The only good that comes from the limited sleeping hours is the fact that it makes the nightmares less. Every night is the same: Maka relives the moment Spirit Albarn takes his last breath. As for Soul, he is tormented by the little red demon, and if it's not that, then it's his family, wishing death apon him.

The two share bodyspace after their activities in feeble attempts to lessen the pain of making it through another restless night.

"Nnnghhnah, Soul!"

He shares only an animalistic roar as he climaxes.

Their nights are never slow; taking it easy leaves to many opportunities for their thought to return, and that is the last thing that they want.

"Maka...You remember when we were younger?"

She looks at him with a drowsy look on her face. She wants to go to sleep, but answers anyways, "When we were careless and free and didn't have a worry in the world? That was when we were sixteen, Soul."

"Yeah, but do you remember it?"

"Yes..."

_Maka gasps as somthing soft is thrown at her: Blair. She looks down at the startled witch-cat and then at the attacker._

_"What the hell, Soul?" she asks, annoyed at being interrupted from reading a rather good book. He looks at her lazily and yawns._

_"Did you even go to sleep last night?"_

_Maka can feel a rush of blood rise to her face immediately and looks away sheepishly. "I was going to go to bed once I finished this," she informs him, holding up the book. He asks her what page she's on and she replies with a shy, "562 out of 796."_

_He sighs and runs a hand through his snowy hair, and for a moment, she thinks that he is mad at her, but then she spots the smirk on his face._

_"My little bookworm," he mumbles so quietly she doesn't catch it._

He sighs and wraps an arm around her, nuzzling his face into her neck. After the night, their normal meister-weapon relationship returns, and it is yet another thing that Maka dreads with a passion. Even though they use sex as a way to hide, it doesn't stop the fact that she loves him, and she wishes so bad that they could live a happy life together.

She is sure that it is a possiblility if not for the war.

He loves her. They face the same problem. No matter what, it is still an impossible option for them.

But at the very least, they _try._

They try their hardest.

Because the only thing they want to do is simple.

Escape.

_If only for a moment._

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**A/N: What's up with this? I know, I know, I should be working on some LOK, or something happy, but frankly, I'm not in the mood. The only reason why you're receiving this is because I'm trying to do exactly what Soul and Maka are trying: escaping. Sorry, I've had some personal drama going on and it's weighing heavy in my chest at the moment. Mind you, my problems don't concern sex or love or anything like this story.**

**Uh, this is the first time I've ever written anything like this...so...Uh. I have nothing to say.  
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**But yeah, thanks a bunch for reading. Reviews help a lot, and I could seriously use the support right now. Even a favorite or alert means the world to me at the moment. Thank you, my wonderful readers.  
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